Feelings are our weakness
by NomFictionFlicker
Summary: I've been reading fanfic's about Naomi Campbell and Emily Fitch for a while, and I must admit I'm addicted! The two characters stories have helped and inspired me. The majority of this story will revolve around my life and experiences. It will contain a lot of deep issues that me and I assume a lot of others experience through their teens, plus experimenting, sex and alcohol!
1. Chapter 1

Feelings are our weakness

It's strange how life can get so fucked up. You can have it all, everything you hoped life would be like as a teenager. But, then you start feeling things you never thought you would, doing things you know you shouldn't to reach your high expectations of high school life. You go crazy, out of control because the pressure just got too much to handle. You think you're a grown up, know everything once you hit your teens, but you soon come crashing back down to earth with destructive consequences. Everything around you starts to feel like it's crumbling apart. That everything you touch turns to shit. So you do some fucked up things because you know you were the one who made yourself lose that bit of control, and not from the fate of others. Losing control and not thinking at that moment can feel like an escape, can feel powerful, but eventually you come back to realization and feel worse than you did in the first place, you feel weak. You keep everything locked away in your head, getting worse and worse, because you don't really have anyone to go to, who'll understand fully. Feeling like everyone you thought you could go to are slowly disappearing, and pushing everyone else away. And you realize how good and stable you could be, with a place to sleep, food, family, friends, health, and feel selfish for feeling like this in the first place when others have such little. Still you can't get that feeling of failure, worthlessness of being unstable to fuck off out of your head; it's like an irritating itch you can't seem to get rid of. But you have to try and dwell on the positives, keep on living, you're always going to have those moments when you can't keep in control, but you have to charge on. It's how we grow and expand as humans.

I'm Zara, blonde, brown eyes, five foot three, average sixteen year old girl, on the outside. I live in North Wales; it's a bit of a shit hole, full of chavs, skaters and pensioners. I've lived here for all of my life, same scenery, same people, same ball shit. I've honestly had the best upbringing, I can't complain too much, friends, family, education, and health everything seemed easy. My parents have always supported me, gave me everything they could. My mum, Jill, works as a manager in a nursery. I'd always been really close to her as a child, I'd tell her everything, we'd go for days out, just the two of us often, and we had a strong mother daughter bond. She'd tuck me in at night and read me stories, opening my imagination to see how amazing life can be. She'd let me climb in bed next to her if I'd woken up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, kicking my Dad out to sleep in the spare room. I'd curl up next to her, and she'd wrap her arms tightly around me, stroking my hair soothingly, I'd soon relax my shaking body listening to the sound of her steady breathing which became a lullaby to my ears and find myself drifting into a content sleep almost instantly. My Dad is known around town for being a nice guy, always happy to help others. He's a sound enjineer, but his real passion is music, he plays in a few bands and inherited the name Danny banjo. Dad inspires me a lot in life, although I'll never admit that to him, you can see it in his crystal blue eyes, full of soul how much he appreciates life and loves what he does. We used to spend a lot of weekends going to have a kick about with a ball on the field by our house, or going for a long bike ride in the country, he liked to keep me toned and fit especially if it meant we spent some time together. He's a clever man, he'd make sure we travel a new country every year, and he'd always pointing out things to teach my innocent mind, I'd look up at him intrigued at his every word, but nowadays I'll just role my eyes in irritation. He's now teaching me to play guitar, which is great, and I picked it up really fast, I find music an escape, whether it's in my room or in a party, I let the music overtake my body and drift off into the beat, although me and Dad have different tastes in music, I'm a lot like him in that way. I have an older brother, we hardly ever interact, he stays in his room and I stay in my room. But I honestly love and have so much respect for him. He's an individual, has his own tastes in life and doesn't care if anyone else doesn't like that, he wouldn't change for anyone. He really helped me to be who I am today, seeing him come home from school with a bloody nose after he'd been beat up from some boys saying he's gay or queer, he'd still stay true to himself, and I promised myself from that day onwards, I would do the same.

I guess you're thinking then why the fuck are you complaining, when everything seems easy, almost perfect for you?! Honestly I don't know how things changed, when exactly things got so difficult. I guess it was around my third year in high school. Suddenly the weight of life got heavy on my shoulders, and it was out of my control, pressure from school really got to me, if I got below an A grade, I'd feel like I'd failed when most of my friends were getting Cs. I played hocked four times a week, I'd always been into my sports but I was passionate about this particular sport, I loved the aggression, the power in one hit of the ball and the adrenaline you feel as you hit the ball at the back of the net and the team roar your name in achievement. So if we lost a match, or I let the ball slip past me, I'd get a horrible knot in my stomach and snap at everyone feeling like such a failure, even if it was just a friendly game. I'd always been competitive, especially in life, I had to be the best, I strived off popularity, you could call me a bitch really, but I just had to be at the top or I felt like I was losing a battle. I started closing myself off from my family at some point, if I was in my house I'd go straight to my room, put my headphones in and make myself look busy so I didn't have to talk to anyone else in. At first my parents would look at me with worry in their eyes telling me that they're here to help if I need it, I'd snap back at them saying all I need is for them to get off my back, I'm fine, just busy. Eventually they stopped trying and left me to it, sometimes I'll miss them nagging at me to talk to them, it hurts how they gave up so easy and don't seem to care as much anymore. I suppose it's my own fault, and I'd soon enough end up shouting "Get the fuck out of my face" if they started the whole concerned parents act again.

Difficulty, it's something I face often. For some reason trouble always seems to find me. Just when life seems pretty perfect, it shortly turns into the ground cracking beneath me, putting me off balance, and making me fall flat on my face. I'll act like I don't give a fuck and go a bit crazy, drinking, smoking, and grabbing anyone I can have just to feel like I can fly for a bit. As long as I'm the one damaging myself, I feel a sense of satisfactory and at that moment I really won't give a shit about anyone or anything else. But in reality It's hard, I feel suffocated by life, my ego's battered and I'm losing all respect for myself and as much as a cliché this sounds, I could really do with someone picking me up, holding me tightly, and protecting me right now. But I won't put myself in that situation again, where you feel so dependent on someone, you feel helpless without them. It's scary how life can change so drastically so suddenly, that I'm really trying my hardest to appreciate the good and make it last for as long as possible. Like I said,I don't know when exactly things changed so much for me; all that I know is that it involves one beautiful girl and my own insecurities.


	2. Chapter 2

**I written this chapter a few weeks ago so thought I'd publish it. But, although I really dislike leaving thing unfinished I'm not receiving feed back so I'm becoming uninterested, also there's so much I'd like to cover, I'm not sure where to go next and what will most interest you, some of you may be interested by some of the stuff I'd like to write about but not other parts of my history. Also, I'm not sure whether to just quit this and start a naomily with a few of my experiences in because this could get really personal which may not be wise to put on the internet :')**

SO IF THERE IS ANY LIFE OUT THERE, PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

Advice would be much appreciated:)

When cracks started to show

I'd walk to school late as always with my friend Ella, we'd talk about everything and anything, she'd always put me in a good mood by the time we'd reached the school gates. I'm very much like Ella, we both have strong opinions and aren't afraid to say what we think, which can be a strength but also result in consequences. She has a fuck it attitude towards school, which I like, I can feel relaxed in her presence knowing we're on the same wave level. The school corridors will be empty when we get in, which would soon be full of youth when the bell rings, announcing registration is over. The silence will be broken as pupils push past to their next lessons, busied in the conversation between their groups of friends, unacknowledging everyone around them. Me and Ella will separate to catch the end of registration, I watch her sometimes groan as she walks down the corridor towards her class lazily with no interest to get there in a hurry, I'll chuckle to myself then run up the stairs towards my own class. I'll straighten myself out, smoothing my hair and pull my skirt down a little closer to the appropriate knee length, before entering the class with a sweet smile on my lips. The teacher will tut how I have to make more of an effort to be on time otherwise he'll have to take action, and I'll throw him my best innocent face and promise I'll try harder in the future. It never lasts.

I loved school then. I had my close group of friends, who all related to me in different ways. We'd go round school, laughing, chatting, and creating a bit of drama to entertain ourselves. I had a love hate relationship with my teachers, which was pretty amusing. They hated me for talking and laughing over their lessons, distracting others from their work, being a constant irritation at the back of the class. But, they also loved me; I surprise them every time I receive good grades and create exceptional work, when I hardly pay attention in class because I'd be far too distracted in conversation. They didn't want to send me out or punish me, because they needed me to make them look good as teachers. Truth is most of them weren't, most of them were greasy haired tossers who don't have a clue what they're doing half of the time. But they like the thought of having power over a class, as they probably had very little as children and very little outside of their classroom. Then there are them pervy teachers who you always catch looking at yourself or another pupil's body, licking their lips, imagination and a filthy hunger in their eyes who clearly didn't have much luck getting laid in high school. The real reason why I actually do succeed in school is because I actually work for it. I'll get home from school and study until late at night until I fully understand the work, or prepared for essays and exams. It's a side of me not many people know about, they'll see me walking through school and think _Ha, what a dumb blonde._ When really I enjoy learning, reading and stress over exams and school like it's the most important thing in the world, you could call me a nerd in the closet, I guess.

I had a boyfriend too, Charlie. Charlie's popular, not for being a douche that the guys look up to, but for being a genuinely nice guy. His skin is the colour of coffee, he's tall with a strong build, and has got dark hair like soot which lies messy just above his eyes which are a magnificent deep shade of brown and illuminate every emotion he feels. We were together for two years, and as sickening as this sounds I really thought he was "the one". I'd spend every lunch time and most weekends in his company, and pushed a lot of my friends away. He made me smile, checked up on me often to see if I'm okay, he watched out for me, wanted what is best for me, made me feel beautiful, loved and respected me. I put all trust in him, revolved my whole life around him because I knew people like that are really hard to find. Everything was just perfect in that moment in time; I had the best friends, loved my family, was doing great in school and had a boyfriend who adored me. I fell into an easy content routine, forgetting how temporary life is. Everything is temporary. Forever is an empty promise.

One day after school I had a hockey match, the team we were playing against were an English schools team who are my schools rivals in all sports and other school competitions, as we were the local welsh school, we often gave each other sly comments and played extra hard to beat one another. Before the match started we'd warm up and practice skills to warn the rival team they better be prepared as we're on full perform. The harsh welsh air was cold slapping my face as I ran a lap of the pitch to warm up before starting our stretches, it stung my eyes, and made my skinny form shake slightly in the wind, but I pushed the feeling of numbness to side as I was determined to not look weak in front of the other team. After warming up we made our way to our position on the pitch, I played up front so would be the first to come face to face with the opposite team, although I never looked at them straight, just looked forward with concentration and determination firmly on my face. The whistle blew and I swiped the ball to my team mate in one quick motion. Before the other component had time to digest what just happened, I'd ran around her receiving the ball back, I dribbled towards the goal, around a few players on the other team, passed it to my team's right winger, just in front of the goal where she perfectly placed the ball at the back of the net with one hard hit. They didn't have a chance. I ran back to my teams' side of the pitch with a proud smile on my lips whilst being praised by my team and turned back to the English team fixing my gaze back on the ball. At half time we were 3-0 up and feeling rather confident, we'd ran rings around the opposite team, and weren't lifting our guard once to give them a chance to score.

The whistle blew for the second half of the game and I was practically bouncing on adrenaline, determined to get another shot at the goal. I received the ball once again with the goal in sight, I dribbled fast towards the goal keeper, eyes fixed on the prise. I thought I'd passed all the defenders but out of nowhere a hockey stick was swung in front of me tackling for the ball; I didn't look up at the defender, just concentrated on getting her out of my way with the ball. I was so concentrated on controlling the ball with my hockey stick that I didn't notice the girl trip over her feet until I felt her slam into me, I lost balance and fell to the flour with the girl's body straggled on top of me. The wind was hit out of my lungs, and I gulped to consume some much needed oxygen before managing to say "What the fuck!"I tried to push the body pining me down out of my way as I heard her raspy voice say "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" I got to my knees to push myself off the ground mumbling "clumsy fucking bitch" under my breath before I felt two warm arms pulling me up. I looked up at the owner of the arms, instantly missing the feel of her holding on to my body as she stepped back. I'm confronted with the girl who hurtled me towards the ground seconds ago; I just stared at her, like I'd never seen another human before in my life. She had dark hair which was up in a bobble out of the way, her fringe lay over her forehead to the side, I imagined what it would look like down, imagined it would compliment her face perfectly, I imagined it to be soft like silk and my hand twitched in temptation. She had a cute button nose with a little ring in one nostril, her cheeks were full and rosy from the cold air, and her skin looked soft and was a warm tanned colour. Her eyes were the most mesmerizing I'd ever seen, a deep pool of warm hazel consuming my every bit of interest enlightened from the raze of sunlight sneaking through the clouds and finding her face. The girl blinked releasing me from the trance; I noticed her dark eyelashes curled perfectly without the need of mascara. My gaze then travelled down to her full lips which were slightly parted with a small smile, I unconsciously licked my own lips and felt a foreign heat rise through my body. I didn't dare move, everything around became oblivious and I felt like the slightest movement would blur my brain, and I wouldn't be able to capture this moment.

The moment soon ended as the girl said "are you alright? You look a bit..." she trailed off and I shuffled backwards, shrugging "ye, um, fine." And rejoined my team, rejoined the rest of the world around me. For the rest of the game I felt distracted, it wasn't like me, I'm usually so focused, but I couldn't stop diverting my eyes to the clumsy defender. She intrigued me; I kept studying her every move wanting to learn more about her. I couldn't understand why, I just felt like I had to get know this girl, and I felt deflated knowing I probably will never get the chance. My coach kept shouting at me to pull myself together, but I just couldn't manage to get back into the game, I let the opposite team slip past me with the ball and made lousy tackles. The game ended on 3-2 to us, although we won, I still felt defeated for losing focus and making some terrible moves at the end of the game, we should have won by miles, and I couldn't help but blame myself.

When I got home I headed straight for the shower. I closed the bathroom door behind me, striped off my clothes and put some music on before dragging my exhausted body into the shower. I stood there with my head resting back; I let the scalding hot water hit my face as it washed over my naked form, warming up my aching muscles and radiating feelings back through my whole body. My head felt heavy and my mind kept wondering back to the intriguing girl I couldn't seem to shift from my thoughts since the hockey match. Why am I feeling like this, she's just a girl, a clumsy girl _that was fucking beautiful_. What the fuck, where is this coming from? I'd never looked at a girl like I did with her before, it felt strange and unnerving. I tried to take control of my thoughts and concentrate on enjoying the feel of the warm water blanketing my body as I wash myself. I started to feel content and relaxed; _I wonder if that beauty is enjoying a nice shower, naked and wet. _I turn the shower off and climb out quickly cursing myself for thinking such thoughts, _pull yourself together Zara!_

**If I do carry this on, would you like me to go into depth about pushing Charlie away and braking up, some crazy parties before properly meeting the girl from hockey including some deep experiences with friends, or go to writing about meeting and getting to know the hockey girl as soon as possible? For Naomily lovers, I have some familiar experiences to the two characters, unfortunately not as great as them, but just as confusing and fun, so I will be including camp outs, river parties, sneaking off in parties, feeling like an experiment, being pushed away, all that fluff and shit if I do carry on..  
I hope someone out there's enjoying this at least, adios! **


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